


A Love Restrained

by tinzelda



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Community: lewis_challenge, International Fanworks Day 2015, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3358772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinzelda/pseuds/tinzelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Hathaway has been avoiding social time with his former governor since his on again-off again relationship with Laura Hobson became on again, but a colleague’s wedding brings them together with happy, fluffy, plot-free results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love Restrained

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Lewis Roulette Challenge in honor of International Fanworks Day 2015. My prompt song was "November Rain" by Guns ‘n Roses. This song is so not my style! And I think Hathaway would agree with me. But its hair-metal-band angstiness is kind of wonderful, if hilarious, and this was fun to write.
> 
> "November Rain"
> 
> When I look into your eyes  
> I can see a love restrained  
> But darlin’ when I hold you  
> Don’t you know I feel the same
> 
> Nothing lasts forever  
> And we both know hearts can change  
> And it’s hard to hold a candle  
> In the cold November rain

Of course James was seated at the same table as Lewis. Of course he was—it was stupid to hope otherwise, and James hardly considered himself an optimist. Still, he sighed when he saw his name card at the place setting right next to Lewis’s. He sank onto his chair and took a gulp of his drink.

He’d managed to avoid spending much time with Lewis lately. It was too awkward—if only for James himself—when Lewis was spending so much time with Dr. Hobson. James felt a bit guilty making excuses every time Lewis called asking to meet for a pint, but things would never be like they’d been when they’d worked together, much less the way James wished they could be, and the sooner he accepted that the better.

Lewis had even invited James along to one of Dr. Hobson’s concerts. “I know you like music,” he’d said, “and Laura and I thought we’d grab a late supper after. You should come along.” He pushed a little when James demurred, but the last thing he wanted was to be the third wheel.

A hand fell on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, and Lewis’s voice said softly, “Well, if it isn’t Detective Inspector Hathaway.”

James turned and, in spite of his nervousness, couldn’t keep a smile off his face. “Sir.” He stood up to shake Lewis’s hand.

“I was beginning to wonder about you, lad. You’ve been keeping yourself mighty busy.”

“Well, as you know, sir, I’m only half of a not-bad detective. I have to work that much harder when I’m missing my other half.” James regretted the words the minute they were out of his mouth. They weren’t there anymore, in a place where he could tease like that and have it taken in stride, were they?

Indeed, Lewis didn’t smile at the joke. He just nodded, let go of James’s hand, and sat at his place at the table.

James returned to his seat as well, and a few moments of awkward quiet gaped between them.

“Is Dr. Hobson here, sir?”

“If she’s is, she’s here under her own steam,” Lewis said.

“Oh? Are you two not—?” James didn’t finish the question. It wasn’t his business, after all, and it’s not like it changed anything as far as his own wishful thinking was concerned.

“We decided we’re better off as friends,” Lewis explained. “Always were. I don’t know why we keep trying to push for more.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.”

James was saved from further comment by the arrival of the wedding party. Julie looked positively radiant with her new husband. They were holding hands and beaming at one another while everyone took photos. It was enough to make James glad he’d decided to come. As discontented as he felt with some aspects of his own life, he did get a certain pleasure in seeing Julie’s happiness, even if it wasn’t quite enough to make him feel hopeful for himself.

Once the guests had their fill of pictures, Julie and the rest of the wedding party headed for the long table at the front of the room, and soft jazz began to play over the reception hall’s speakers.

“I’m happy for her,” Lewis said, leaning over to be heard over the noise of the crowd. “She deserves to be happy.”

“I’m surprised at her choice of dates though. I wouldn’t have thought it would be her style.”

“And why not? A day for love and romance? I think it’s a fine day to celebrate your anniversary every year.”

“Indeed, sir, a holiday honoring St. Valentine, who was beaten and then beheaded, martyred for his faith. What better day to—”

“Don’t you start,” Lewis said sharply, but he was smiling now.

Dr. Hobson appeared and sat in the chair on the other side of Lewis. James returned her cheerful greeting, but her presence dampened the good mood that had started to blossom while he was bantering with Lewis.

“Lovely ceremony, wasn’t it?” Dr. Hobson said. “I think they’ll be very happy.”

“We were just saying the same thing,” Lewis answered. “Weren’t we, James?”

James forced a small cheeky grin.

“Look, the dancing’s starting.” Dr. Hobson was out of her chair and standing next to James before he knew what was happening. “Come on, you’re first.”

“First for what?” James asked, stalling.

“You’re going to dance with me. And then it’ll be Robbie’s turn.”

“I don’t think he wants to dance with me,” James said, deadpan, but his joke backfired—Lewis’s head snapped to the side to look at him. James didn’t look back, but he could feel Lewis’s gaze riveted on him.

Dr. Hobson grinned at him wickedly. “Come along, James. No whining. Just march.”

James obeyed—it was easier than arguing and certainly easier than sitting there under Lewis’s sharp eyes.

A terrible rock ballad began to play over the speakers, and James groaned. “What was wrong with the jazz? Couldn’t they have just kept that up?”

Dr Hobson shrugged, then grabbed James’s hand and pulled him into position.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” he said. “You probably should have asked Lewis first.”

“He’ll get his turn,” she said lightly. “He’s lighter on his feet after a drink or two.”

They moved in small circles around the floor for several moments before James couldn’t stand it anymore—Lewis had made their breakup seem amicable, but James would feel a lot less guilty for feeling relieved if he were certain that she was equally comfortable with the outcome.

“Lewis told me that you two, er . . . that you—”

“Nothing lasts forever,” she quoted from the terrible song.

“I’m sorry. I, er . . .”

“Yes, all right, thank you,” she said with a lifted eyebrow. “No need to strain yourself.”

James felt his neck and cheeks flush. “I beg your pardon?”

“Come now, Inspector Hathaway, you don’t think I’ve worked all these years with such fine detectives without picking up a few deductive skills of my own? I can imagine just how torn up you are to hear that Robbie’s on the market again.”

She nudged at James’s shoulder and tugged on his hand—he’d frozen in the middle of the dance floor.

James began to stutter out a response.

“For heavens sake, James, you should tell him.”

He just stared at her.

“He’s not your governor anymore, you know, and you didn’t see his face every time you brushed him off. He misses you.”

If his laugh came out bitter, James didn’t think he could be faulted. “He misses me for takeaway curry and bit of football on the telly. He’d never . . .”

“You’ll never know until you try, will you?” She squeezed his hand. “I think you’re underestimating him.” James’s eyes slid over to their table, and he wasn’t surprised to see Lewis watching them. He smiled at James crookedly, and in spite of all his resolutions to forget about it, to let go of pointless fantasies, James felt a hopeful longing welling up from his belly.

“All right,” he said. “All right, I’ll do it. I’ll tell him.”

Dr. Hobson looked startled. “What, now?”

“Yes, now. Why not?” He’s miss Lewis dreadfully if the confession frightened him away for good, but they already barely saw each other. It wasn’t like James could feel any worse.

He’d been dancing like an automaton, but with a sudden energetic charge, he spun Dr. Hobson around, lowered her into a deep dip, and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “You’re very welcome.”

He set her back on her feet, squared his shoulders, and turned to face Lewis across the dance floor. Taking large, quick strides before he lost his nerve, James crossed the room. Lewis stood up to meet him.

“James?”

“Sir—” James broke off and shook his head before trying again. “Robbie.”

Lewis held up his hand. “Before you say anything else. . . .” He paused for a moment. He looked so very serious—it was almost enough to make James give up this crazy idea. “I just want you to be certain before you speak.”

James’s stomach clenched into knots.

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day, remember,” Robbie continued. “From now on we’ll have to remember that this is the day it started—the day of a saint who was beaten and beheaded.”

Was Robbie teasing him? Now? James realized his mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut.

Robbie laughed, though not unkindly, and reached for James’s hand. “I’m sorry, lad, but you looked so bloody miserable. Leave it to you to make a grand romantic gesture looking like you’re headed for a firing squad.”

James was still speechless, and Robbie took pity on him, tugging on his hand until he fell into a chair, his knees feeling watery. Then Robbie put his arm around James’s shoulders and whispered in his ear. “We’ll stay till they cut the cake, yeah? Then we’ll get out of here and figure it all out.”

His words, his breath in James’s ear—the feeling sent a shiver down James’s spine.

He was still dazed, speechless, and far too aware of the steady arm resting along the back of his chair when Dr. Hobson returned to the table a little while later. She smiled at James, looking smug, and reached out to give Robbie’s hand a squeeze.

The End


End file.
